This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was so personal and unexpected. Weren’t these writings supposed to be about them, rather than me? After all, all the titles started with the words: “Why I”.
However, I felt that as soon as I finished reading Orwell and Didion’s essay that they explained about what writing means to human beings. In Orwell’s “Why I Write”, I discovered writing to be a medium of self-expression and far more powerful than I had realized. The first line that spoke to me and made me pay closer attention to my readings this past week were these exact lines: “I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-four I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature and sooner or later I should have to settle and write books”. As a college student facing the beginning of the end of impermanent youth, I saw writing as a true nature and necessity of human beings. Many times, we spend most of time and energy talking to others and not enough time writing our words down and evaluating the power of eternal prose.
Didon in her “Why I Write” also drew the same effect from as she began briefly discussing her college years when she “tried, witha kind of hopeless late-adolscent energy, to buy some temporary vis into the world ideas, to forge for myself a mind that could deal with the abstract”. And from her writing, I felt that writing was simply as natural as speaking and thinking. It was a way of trying to figure out the world around you.
And so the writings I brought today were my own form of analyzing the world. I write when so many information and observations fill my mind and my brain is unable to organize my thoughts. Writing frees my mind to make room for thinking. In a way, writing makes me understand, however it also brings up more questions and further realizations. And in this way, I feel the writing I choose fits Orwell and Didion’s perspective of writing and seeing the world.